The Speaker
by twelia
Summary: "When I first joined the family, this Sanctuary was controlled by another Speaker. Lucien took her place when she was killed while fulfilling a contract." - Vincente Valtieri. My take on how Lucien became a member of the Brotherhood, and how he came to be a Speaker. My first uploaded fic on here, I hope you like it, leave a review if possible :)


I could remember my first murder as if it were yesterday. I can still feel the exact amount of panic and fear that filled me at that moment, the way I shivered at the sight of the Bosmer's corpse. I find it funny now that I look back at it, not the situation as it is, but mainly my feelings. My later murders were carried out in cold blood. However, this one murder was not intentional, and I'd lost control. All I wanted was to steal a loaf of bread. I ended up stealing a life.

Although I was overwhelmed by my actions and their consequences, I managed to quickly hide the body, not without looting it for gold and other valuables, including a sharp steel dagger. Packed and armed, I made my way to Chorrol. The trip took me a full day to complete. The road was not long, but I was weary and worried, and so I took a break to catch my breath every now and then, making sure I wasn't leaving any tracks. What if someone had seen me or followed me? The guards' swords would be at my throat in no time. I had to keep a low profile for the time being.

I somehow managed to hide my nervousness while entering the city of Chorrol. Maybe I had a sudden strike of good luck, because none of the guards actually paid attention to me. I made my way to the Grey Mare, nodded at the rather fair skinned Imperial woman behind the counter, and took place at one of the tables. There was almost no one at that time of the day, and it was for the best. I disliked crowds in general, and the inn was small. The woman, most probably the innkeeper, made her way towards me and placed a loaf of bread and some warm stew on my table.

"If you need anything else, I'll be over there." I muttered a few words of thanks, and gave her a few of the septims I had taken earlier. "Why thank you, traveler." She walked away and started tending to the mugs on the counter, leaving me to my thoughts. I had to be stronger, and I decided to be so. Things happen, and I wasn't going to let a stupid accident ruin my life. I was still young, still had time to right my wrongs, or do more. Nevertheless, I had to brace myself.

Time passed, and a few customers walked in and out. Argonians, Bretons, Elves, armored or dressed in mage robes, but mainly commoners. The good thing was, since the place was so small, no one stayed for too long, and there never were much people. I decided to stay for the night. I certainly wasn't going to get on the road after walking that much. I paid the innkeeper for a room and went to rest.

For some reason, I slept peacefully that night. Maybe it was my newfound conviction that things were going to be alright, maybe it was the weariness of the road that made me sleep so well. However, I woke up in the middle of the night. No, I was woken up. Someone was caressing my cheek, and humming a lullaby. At first, I imagined it was just a dream, but the voice was too familiar.

 _You sleep rather soundly, for a murderer._

I bolted out of the sheets, and opened my eyes to a hooded figure. I instinctively tried to grab the dagger, but I couldn't find it. The figure sat on the bed and I heard a feminine laugh.

"Now, now, no need to be scared. You were looking for this?" the woman said, dangling the dagger in front of me.

"Who are you?"

The woman took off her hood. It was the innkeeper. I shook my head and tried to get up, but for some reason, I was nailed to the bed.

"I mean you no harm, young man." And yet, she looked much younger than me. Her smile grew, and she held my hand. "I represent an organization you might be familiar with. The Dark Brotherhood." She threw the dagger to the farthest corner of the room, and continued. "It has come to our notice that you've murdered someone, earlier today. However, that person was one of our contracts. Mine, to be precise…" Her smile was warm, and yet her eyes were devoid of sympathy. "We have decided to spare you, on one condition. You must join us."

"I… I don't know. I need to think."

"You can think as much as you want, however, your life is at stake. On the bright side," she snickered, as if it were extremely ironic for her to say such a thing, "you'll be welcome into a new family. And you'll get paid for killing. I can see that you need it," she added, judging my outfit. The Bosmer I'd killed was slightly wealthier than the common rabble, but I wasn't stealing his clothes. It would have been too obvious.

I had to think fast. Or act fast. If I wanted to stay alive, I needed to either murder my host, or accept her offer. _If I do kill her, the Brotherhood will be on my trail. No, I have to be smart._

"I'll do it."

"Well that was fast." She smiled at me, and gave me a coin purse. "That's for the contract you performed in my stead, you deserve the gold for your trouble. Welcome to the Dark Brotherhood… your name?"

"Lucien Lachance."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, newest Brother. My name is Arientea Nassius."

* * *

During the months that followed, Arientea taught me all I needed to know about my newfound family. She'd introduced me to my Dark Kin, to other Speakers, and even to the Listener. I'd gotten closer to my Kin and became a well-respected member of the organization. As it turns out, Arientea was one of the Speakers for the Brotherhood's Black Hand. That meant she was my superior, and I had to obey any of her orders. She took care of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, but spent her days off taking care of the Grey Mare inn. When she wasn't there, a Nord named Berit would run the inn. Her clientele was always a good source of information and the Sanctuary was never short of supplies thanks to the caravans she traded with.

Arientea kept encouraging me to surpass myself. She became a good friend and a good mentor, even joining me on some of my contracts. I never truly had friends, never knew how to keep them, but she was an exception. I was not stupid; I could feel the jealousy of some of my Kin, and the admiration of others. Being one of the latest recruits and also becoming the Speaker's favorite assassin in such a short time was not something all of my Brothers and Sisters could understand, let alone approve of. But I did not care much. I was doing what I was told, and I was making Arientea and the rest of the Black Hand proud. My fear towards the Brotherhood had turned into love and passion, in a way. All I wanted was to serve the Dread Father, as opposed to my initial wishes of making some gold and surviving. And I was proud, happy even. True, it is morbid, to find such satisfaction in death, but it gave my life meaning. At some point, I even travelled to Skyrim, something I'd never dreamed of doing. And much to my joy, and to my kin's dismay, Arientea joined me.

Occasionally, I'd pass by the Grey Mare and grab a drink with Arientea, sometimes even renting a room, although I'd developed a certain love for travelling at night. She wouldn't take any of my coin, although I'd make sure to plant some septims in the inn's strongbox when no one was looking.

A year passed quickly, then another. I'd become Arientea's personal Silencer. No one was truly surprised, except me. I should have expected as much, but Arientea always managed to astonish me. By that time, I had seen my fair share of contracts. Slaughtering clans, beheading ex-wives, even hunting down clients' families, the people of Tamriel truly were interesting.

One night, I visited my Speaker at her inn. It was rather warm, even for Last Seed. She wore a loose and slightly revealing white and blue dress, and most, if not all the customers that night, were men. Needless to say, she received a lot of attention. She was beautiful, something I'd noticed before, but that I never bothered pointing out. It's not something you'd generally pay attention to in a murderous organization.

I sat in a corner of the slightly crowded inn, listening to the chatter and laughs of the clientele, observing all of them. They were a merry folk, and Arientea fit perfectly in that atmosphere, as she danced around – sometimes with – the customers, waving a flagon of ale and serving them. Quite ironic for her to be a cold blooded murderer. At some point, she'd dragged me by the arm and forced me to dance. I accepted reluctantly, but it was pleasant. My Speaker's company was pleasant.

After hours, the last customer finally left. I decided to help my superior clean up the place. She obviously didn't let me leave that night, almost ordering me to stay and rest. It had gotten colder, and she'd donned a simple black cloak, and threw me a blanket to cover myself with. We sat near the fire, chatting and drinking.

"You've never told me how you became a member of the Brotherhood," I said after draining a mug of ale.

Arientea smirked and grabbed my shoulder. "My dear Lucien, that is a very long tale, but I suppose we have the time." She went to refill our mugs and sat down, inching her chair closer to mine. "I was the daughter of an Imperial pirate, but I lived most of my life with my Nord mother. Eventually, my mother died, attacked by bandits, or so I thought. I was very young, and very innocent, you see, and so, when my father came and decided to take me under his wing, I went with him. At the time I believed him, that he truly cared, and I joined his crew." She paused for a moment, stoking the fire, then looked back at me. "I had nowhere else to go, and I needed to survive somehow. Taking care of a farm in Skyrim was difficult, so piracy was a much better alternative to me, even if it meant risking my life. I eventually discovered the truth about my mother's death, years later. My father had her killed, and wanted to take me to sell me to some slavers when I was old enough. And so, I decided to avenge the only parent who truly cared about me." She took a pause and almost chugged her ale.

"I am sorry to –" she placed a finger on my lips and squeezed my hand.

"No need, dear. I had made friends amongst the crew, and they agreed to help me escape. A mutiny happened, during which I murdered my own father, and some of his closer mates. And it felt good. I was free. Young, orphaned, a murderer, but free. I named my best friend on board captain, and made them take me back to Cyrodiil."

"And how did the Dark Brotherhood come to contact you?"

"I made them," she grinned at me. "I performed the Black Sacrament, but had no victim to kill. It took days to convince them that I wanted to join their ranks, but they finally agreed. The Listener had been told by the Night Mother to do so, and I do not know why. No one does, really."

She turned her chair towards the fire and stared at the flames, and for the first time, I was taken aback by her beauty, shocked almost. In weak light of lit candles and burning wood, she looked like one of the fair maidens from the songs. Her dirty blonde locks cascaded on her shoulders, and her pale complexion.

 _You're staring, you idiot._ "And I take it you felt at home?" I asked, turning my head to the flames.

She chuckled. "Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be a part of the family. It took me some time but I managed to feel quite at home." She squeezed my hand, and I turned towards her. Her eyes had gotten darker, her the light of the fireplace danced on her pale skin. "Do you regret joining?"

"Not at all, even if it you almost forced me into it." She laughed. "I had no purpose at first, just survive. But the Brotherhood changed that. And I've made friends, and I'm quite content with how things are."

"I'm glad you joined, then." She stood up, knelt in front of me, and took both my hands into hers. "I'm glad to have met you, Lucien." I nodded, and as I was about to speak, her lips met mine for a couple of seconds. "Good night for now, don't forget to put out the fire." She stood up, turned around, and went to her bedroom. I remember rolling in bed that night, still haunted by her face, and her dancing figure in front of the fireplace.

The next day, we both moved out to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary on horseback. Not a word about the previous night was shared, and maybe it was better that way. Arientea's behavior did not change however. It was only a few days later, at the Sanctuary, as I was unpacking, that I realized she was truly changed. She'd dragged me to her room, and locked the doors behind us. Every moment spent with her seemed to last an eternity, and I embraced each and every one of them.

Needless to say, it was not the only time I'd spend the night with her. And more obviously, my Brothers and Sisters did not truly approve of that relationship. But I did not care, nor did Arientea. All that mattered to us was our happiness, and the Night Mother's satisfaction. Eventually, our Family got used to the idea of us. Some were cynical, others were more acceptant, but all was good.

Unfortunately, our happiness was short lived. There came a time for Arientea to serve eternally by our Dread Father's side. And so she did, unwillingly, but she was an asset to the Brotherhood till the very end. She'd carried out her contract perfectly, as expected of her, but was killed by a friend of the victim. I personally made sure her killer was punished accordingly, his corpse displayed on his home's doorstep for all to see. The Black Hand eventually decided to name me Speaker for the Brotherhood, "not because of her, but because we are sure you will bring glory to us all". And I accepted. I would not let another one of my Family fall, not if I could help it.

I would make the Night Mother proud.

I would make her proud.

* * *

The ex-prisoner lay in bed, thinking of the dead Emperor, his last words, but mainly, of the guard that found death at his hands earlier today. It was not intentional, or was it? No, it was self-defense. Luckily, no one had seen him do the deed. Going back to prison was out of the question.

He finally managed to fall into a dreamless sleep, but woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. The room was dark, and it took some time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A hooded figure stood opposite of him, and he could make out a sheathed sword at the mysterious person's side. Startled, he jumped out of bed and readied his dagger.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer. That's good. You'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to propose."


End file.
